maine 1:2

We camped in marsh land. I knew this was a mistake, but all of us were too tired to go on without sleep. The rain fell almost as hard as the mosquitos against our weakening skin. We'd borrowed a tent, almost worthless against the onslaught of bugs and weather that started as we climbed out the car and didn't stop again until we got back in the next day, unrefreshed and festering. Going where we were told, we were far north, deep into the mosquito breeding grounds, breeding seemingly for the entire continent as they hatched and fanned out south and west sucking our blood along with them. We ate pork and beans from the can, something I'd done too many times to enjoy it now, even for the contrast of it with being eaten myself. I tried to keep the kids from touching the tent walls, to retain the water-resistance of the canvas, but it was hopeless. Rain oozed through, first in drops then in streams. I don't know why this seemed better to us than sitting in the car. We were tired of the car, of course, but this was crazy.

move on...